


Reminiscence

by Eadwine63



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo remembers sad things, M/M, character exploration, flash fiction - kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eadwine63/pseuds/Eadwine63
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has had years to come to terms with his feelings. He's had years to find out why Thorin's passing hurt so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminiscence

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a Hobbit fanfiction before, but after watching the film the other day and reading a very good fic too, I thought it was about time I ventured there. So, this is short and more of a character-exploration, but I guess there is no reason not to share it. I hope it's nice to read anyways~ Comments are greatly appreciated, especially as this is my first attempt at writing Bilbo...

A bright moon shone over the hills and slopes of the Shire and Bilbo Baggins found himself sitting beside a young oak, smoking his pipe leisurely. Bilbo loved the summer days, but he enjoyed the nights as much, when the heat of the day had worn off and a comforting tranquillity had settled over the Shire. Everyone slept peacefully, yet Bilbo sat next to the growing tree in his garden, smoking, remembering. The nights were his peaceful moments where adventures replayed in his mind. They were the moments Bilbo could give up the smile he wore every day and remember the losses he’d experienced. He’d lost friends and family, but losing Thorin had been one of the harshest moments he’d had to endure in his entire life. He hadn’t known how much it would hurt to see him go, until the Dwarf-King’s eyes had glazed over right in front of him. When it had just happened, Bilbo couldn’t help but feel as if Thorin had given up. He couldn’t help but be angry and disappointed. After some time, Bilbo had come to accept Thorin’s death as everyone had, but it didn’t make it any less painful.

So he sat next to this tree every once in a while and allowed himself to feel as if Thorin was still there with him. He’d done as Thorin had said; he’d gone home to his books, his armchair. He’d planted his trees and watched them grow for nights on end. Yet, the home he had valued above all else didn’t seem like the home he had expected to come home to and Bilbo had wondered often if it had been different had Thorin still been alive. Would he have felt different about home if his friend were still breathing? Both had nothing to do with each other at first glance, but Bilbo had come to understand that he missed Thorin as much as he had missed home while he was away on his adventures. Home seemed so quiet without the Dwarrow to mess it up. Home seemed lonely now.

Thorin’s absence gnawed at his chest. Bilbo would have told him, eventually. He would have told his friend just how much he valued his friendship. He would have told Thorin that he valued him as much as he valued home and the Dwarf-King would have understood the sentiment perfectly. Bilbo could have said so much more; they’d parted in friendship, but yet it seemed to belittle what Bilbo had started to see in their relationship. On many occasions, he’d wondered if Thorin could have been the lover he’d never truly found. But such things couldn’t be resolved anymore and no matter the nature of his feelings, what was important was that he had loved him. He had loved the insolent Dwarf who had all but invaded his home, the ignorant idiot who had refused to believe in his worth. Thorin had told him once he had never been so wrong to disbelief in someone, but Bilbo wanted to throw those words right back at him. The Dwarf he’d gotten to know was stubborn and was careful in whom he put his trust, but he was nowhere near insolent, ignorant or idiotic. 

Thorin had been the best of friends. He missed the others, of course. He missed Kili and Fili. He missed Erebor and its people as a whole, but those feelings were pinpointed more on fleeting nostalgia when compared to what he still felt when he thought of Thorin’s passing. Not a day went by when Bilbo didn’t miss his thick-headedness, his courage or the care for his people. Bilbo missed the strong arms that once held him and made him feel accepted. He missed him like he’d miss a lover, even though they hadn’t been anywhere close to having that satisfaction. Neither Thorin, nor Bilbo had had time to think about love back then, but he had all the time in the world now.


End file.
